


agárrame del pelo, traspasemos la barrera

by Anonymous



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnant Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alicia is pregnant and horny. Raquel is more than happy to help out.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Alicia Sierra
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86
Collections: Anonymous





	agárrame del pelo, traspasemos la barrera

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Najwa's song Lento and it slaps

Alicia hates being pregnant. She can't stand it. All that talk people do of how pregnant women are so glowy and beautiful and they just love being pregnant, they really do, it's the happiest time of their lives, it's not messy and clumsy and really fucking painful and stressful at times at all, it's like –

God, sometimes she just wants to strangle someone with her bare hands. And that's _with_ the knowledge that she's been handling the pregnancy a lot better than most women, who sit at home in bathrobes and cry over soap operas and whine to their husbands about how sore and swollen their ankles have become. Sure, sometimes being pregnant is good. She doesn't get as irritable, doesn't get as sore, doesn't get as horny. Her tits have never looked better. Sometimes people let her cut in line without her having to do it herself. No one gives her odd looks when she buys too many bags of lollipops and bubblegum by the pound. On the street, people that pass her look vaguely impressed that she's in heels, made up from head to toe, looking better every day even into the final trimester.

They fucking _should_ be impressed. It's a lot of work.

The cons are these: she has to pee not every hour, not even every half hour, but every fifteen minutes. She's constantly got a dry mouth, so she's constantly drinking, which means she's constantly close to pissing herself. She gets these awful fawning looks from everyone she meets. _Oh, how sweet,_ they think, _what a beautiful pregnant lady, I have no idea who she is or why she's here or why I even care about how huge her stomach is, but I do._ People pull her chair out for her, like she's an invalid. This thing inside of her kicks so often she'd probably have bruises if it were possible.

And while being pregnant usually doesn't make her too horny, when it does, it really does.

Like right now, for instance.

Raquel is knuckle-deep in her cunt and Alicia would usually be feeling at least a little humiliated by the way she's keening and rolling her hips back in desperate thrusts, or especially by the sound of her slick clenching around Raquel's fingers. But she never is when she's like this, sweating and panting helplessly against the glass of her window. They hadn't even made it out the door, her hair's still a little damp from the shower because her fucking hairdryer broke, and she's not worried about it because she still has time. Time for her hair to dry, and time for Raquel to fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her again. Usually, from her apartment, she can hear all the fantastical noise of the city, but right now everything seems muted and muffled when put in comparison to her thumping heartbeat and that sound between her legs, her dress hiked up around her hips. She wonders if she can be seen here, if they can be seen, if someone were to look up at the right moment and see Raquel palming at her cunt, see her mouth melt into a sweet, shivering _oh-oh-oh_ of relief and pleasure as she comes.

Alicia feels herself tremble, clenching down tight around Raquel's fingers, and they both groan together at the feeling, Alicia's fingers digging roughly into Raquel's shoulders.

“Calm down,” Raquel coaxes huskily behind her, “take it slow.” But, judging by the sounds she's making, and by the way her hand is trembling on the roundness of Alicia's belly, she's not about to take her own advice.

“ _Fuck you,_ ” Alicia growls right back, her head dropping against the window pane. “Fucking—fuck you— _fuck_ —“

Raquel laughs and _fuck_ Alicia hates her, she hates her so much she wants to claw her eyes out and maybe she will after this, and if not she'll definitely give as good as she's getting. She wants Raquel up on the counter in her kitchen, clean and sparse because she doesn't cook and isn't even home enough lately to need a kitchen at all. She wants her legs spread, she wants to taste her pussy, she wants everything, she's aching for it. She's aching for all of it.

Raquel can always tell when she's on the brink. She can always tell what she's thinking and what she's feeling and what she's about to do, and sometimes that's obnoxious, but right now Alicia could really, _really_ not be more grateful for it if she'd tried. Raquel's thumb flicks over her clit, then presses down until stars are bursting wide open behind her eyes. _One._ “ _God damn it._ Don't—don't stop—“

Raquel's hand drops low away from her belly, and strokes her hip before it dives with the other one between her legs, spreading the lips of her cunt and stroking her wetness up to her clit. Alicia finds herself reeling, gasping breathlessly, her fingers scratching at the window. There's someone walking below, smoking a cigarette, earbuds in. She wonders if he'll hear her scream. Wonders if she'll care. Wonders if Raquel will care.

Probably not, no, and absolutely yes, in that order. Raquel will only care for the rest of the day and then they'll do this again, maybe Raquel the one shoved up against the wall this time, her head pushed back against the window, her cheeks flushed and her eyes all wide and dark, her cunt pulsing sweetly, wet-pink against Alicia's tongue...

 _Two._ She comes again, hard and fast, with a long groan that comes deep from her chest. She can't breathe, not really. She's definitely having trouble differentiating between Raquel's gasps, all clear and sweet and wet, and her own – heavy, hard, closer, closer, closer...

Raquel brings her in, one hand squeezing her ass while the other keeps rubbing at her cunt, coaxing forth some last remnants of pleasure like tiny sparks nipping at her skin. Alicia drops her head forward against the other woman's shoulder, biting down on her lip until she tastes that tangy burst of blood in her mouth. “ _Fuck,_ ” she breathes, and it leaves her in a sob, which is nothing new because with pregnant-horny comes pregnant-crying-for-some-reason, apparently. Still, it's annoying when she feels the first tears sting her eyes. She's not sad, she's not happy, she's got no reason to cry, she's drained but already wanting more, and it's what Raquel gives her even as her fingers pull out. They circle slow and soft on her cunt, drifting through her folds, pinching briefly at her clit to give her that snap back to reality. It works too well. She hears herself whimper.

“You're so beautiful,” Raquel says, her voice distant. Everything sounds even farther away now, but she hears that, the soft shine in Raquel's voice. It makes her shudder instinctively. She hates when Raquel gets like this, all sappy and ridiculous after sex, like Alicia has any time for that, for it, for her. Only she's here, and they're doing this, and she has time for all of it. Raquel's compliment settles in her stomach, hot and pounding. 

“Shut up,” Alicia says, melting back against the window again, letting herself slide down until she's leveraged against the sill with a leg hiked up around Raquel's hip. It's not the most comfortable of positions, would undoubtedly be a lot better if she wasn't as round as a goddamn basketball, but she settles there and can't really bring herself to care that much at all.

Raquel's fingers flit up over her stomach, her breasts, her throat. Alicia sucks them clean when they reach her lips, tasting herself on her tongue. The tears end and dry quick on her face, but Raquel still kisses her there, like there's something to kiss away. Alicia allows it because –

She doesn't know. She allows it.

“I'm throbbing,” Alicia sighs, closes her eyes. “Keep touching me or I'll kill you.”

At this point, this late point, it's an empty threat. But Raquel listens to her anyway, always the good little soldier, her fingers back between her thighs in no time. She's dripping everywhere and Raquel gathers slickness from her thighs on her fingers before easing their way in, as if she really needs it. She doesn't. She's already close enough, and it takes only a minute or two before she's coming again, her mouth open and her breathing heavy.

_Three._

She pushes Raquel away as soon as she recovers, as soon as her whole body stops shaking starting with her hands. She fixes her underwear, straightens her dress and grimaces at the sticky feeling between her legs. It's always good until it's not good. Raquel looks a little like a kicked puppy when she realizes it's over. It's endearing and stupid all at once and Alicia wants to smack her face, see redness where it belongs, see her mouth fall open and her eyes get all dazed and soft.

But something swells up inside of her, the inevitable tide, and her mouth is dry and she feels good because Raquel made her feel good and instead of smacking Raquel, she kisses her on the cheek as she passes her. “Come on,” she says. “I need _another_ shower after that, and you're coming with me.”


End file.
